It has been two days since I officially walked out of my classroom once again, trying to contain my excitement about summer vacation while at the same time trying not to cry. Cry? Why would I want to cry? Because the room looks so sad and bare after all that hard work cleaning and putting everything away. Because I spend one hundred and eighty two days a year, eight hours a day with "my" kids. Because my coworkers are my surogate family. Because in a couple of months (which will seem to be gone in a flash) I have to start all over again. That's why for one seemingly small moment, I wanted to cry.